Time to Break Down
by Darkfangz13
Summary: Cobb is ready to move on without Mal, thanks to Ariadine's intervention... but what about Arthur? Eames just wants to see Arthur smile again. A/N Just a short fic because I love Arthur/Eames and Arthur's dimples. :p


It was a star lit, cloudless night. Arthur leaned on the decorative fencing of his hotel room's balcony as he reached into his breast pocket and fished out a carton of cigarettes. He fumbled with the packaging and managed to get the filter between his lips. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he lit a match and held it up to the end of his nicotine stick.

It was the night after the Fischer job and the team had planned on separating at LAX but most of the flights would take off in the morning so Ariadine, lovely soul that she was, had invited the whole team to celebrate at a nearby hotel. After several rounds of drinks, Arthur had excused himself, telling Ariadine that Eames and Yusuf were simply too loud for his mood. He had also booked himself a room in the hotel and had turned to the peaceful silence there.

He sensed Eames moving behind him before he even saw or heard the man. "And here I always thought you were a non-smoker." There was an amused undertone to the Britt's naturally slured comment.

Arthur wondered how on earth Eames had gotten into his room in the first place. Then he remembered one of the hotel staff eying Eames appreciatively. Eames probably took advantage of that. He sighed and shook his head. "Well, you were misinformed." Arthur's reply was short, sharp, and dry. Exactly like always.

"Misinformed, was I?" Eames stopped just inside the room, looking out, and raised an eyebrow at Arthur's slightly guilty look. He looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He sighed concernedly. "Does Cobb know?"

Arthur's carefully guarded expression returned and he sniffed. "Elaborate on Cobb's relation to this conversation, please?" Eames sighed and neared the point man.

"I may be daft sometimes, darling, but I'm not entirely unaware of the date." He watched as Arthur stiffened more than usual, if all possible.

Arthur stood still for another moment or two, cigarette dangling precariously between his thin fingers, casting red light onto his pale features. Then he hummed noncommittally and continued filling his lungs with smoke. He really didn't like the thought of having this conversation with Eames on the day of Mal's death, Eames, of all people!

"Dom looks happy." It was a simple statement but Arthur froze up again. Eames knew he would mull over those words for a while, Arthur always did have a habit of over thinking things.

"He does." Arthur decided on a simple, truthful reply. He blew out a cloud of smoke and watched it dissipate.

"Looks like he's forgiven himself... for what happened to Mal." Arthur snorted.

"Is he that drunk?" Eames frowned. Arthur always was a sour-faced, cynical, stick-in-the-mud. But he was never this depressed. "Coming to terms with it, maybe, but redemption is still a long way off, I think."

The two fell into silence at that. Arthur finished his first smoke and swiftly moved onto a second. Eames just watched him carefully. Arthur felt the tingle on the back of his neck and shot an annoyed look in the forger's direction but the man persisted. Finally, Arthur caved in and let out an exasperated sigh. "What do you want from me, Eames?"

Eames shifted his weight from one foot to the other lazily. "I want you to talk to me." Arthur blinked at him blankly, then let out a breathy chuckle.

"'Talk to you'? About what?" he smiled languidly, the lifelessness in his smile made Eames bristle.

"Mal." Arthur turned his gaze away and frowned, crinkling his forehead a little.

"I think Cobb would know more about her than I do." he murmured lamely.

"I didn't mean I wanted to know _about_ Mal! I mean, I want to know exactly how much it affected you!" Eames fought hard to keep himself from shouting at the pointman. Ever since Mal's death, Arthur was always withdrawn. Ever since Mal began appearing in Cobb's subconsciousness, Arthur tried harder to keep himself detached, professional. And now Cobb had gotten over Mal's death and Arthur seemed genuinely depressed. Eames wanted to know why.

"What do you mean? Mal was family, she died, I've moved on." Arthur intoned slowly, but Eames caught a glint of hurt and anger in his eyes.

"Have you?" Eames couldn't bite back the concerned remark. "Darling, when was the last time you smiled?" Arthur just shot a glare in his direction.

"It's none of your business." Eames ignored him.

"I mean, like, smiling genuinely, big enough so you don't have those annoying wrinkles on your forehead, and..." Arthur sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Eames..."

"...The edges of your eyes crinkle..."

"Eames, you're ba..."

"...And you can see your dimples..."

"You're babbling, Eames!" Arthur exclaimed, cutting him off, too uncomfortable with the words coming out of the forger's mouth to properly register them. How did Eames know he had dimples, anyway!

"All I'm trying to say, Arthur darling, is that you don't smile anymore, you don't have fun, and you loyally glue yourself to your laptop and dossiers." Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm pretty sure it's not healthy."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sucked at his cigarette dismally. "So? I like things the way it is." Then he glanced at Eames. "Well... of course I could always appreciate a few extra moments devoid of you." he smirked.

"You're trying to steer the conversation away from the main topic, love." Eames gently pointed out. "So, what's eating at you?" Arthur stared at him for a moment, startled, he hadn't expected the forger to care all that much to press the subject.

He was on the verge of letting a lie slip off his tongue when he was stopped by a stern look from Eames. If he lied, Eames would know. He sighed in defeat and resumed leaning on rail, staring straight ahead of him. "I miss her." he admitted finally.

"Mal?" Arthur knew Eames only spoke to encourage him to continue.

"Mal began appearing in Cobb's subconscious before either of us really recovered from the shock of losing her, and... well, sometimes it was hard to remember that she was really gone." Arthur rubbed his temples with his unoccupied hand with a grimace. "And now that I know she's not haunting Cobb's consciousness... it's hard, knowing that I'll never see her smile again just the way I... and Cobb, remember." Eames didn't know what he should say to the other man so he remained quiet but joined him, leaning on the railing, staring out at the darkness, listening to the sound of the others on the team shouting and laughing without a care in the world. They just stood and listened in companionable silence for a while.

"Hey." Arthur's quiet, almost timid voice broke him out of his reverie. "I heard you didn't attend the funeral." Eames shrugged his shoulders.

"Did any of us?" Arthur blinked at that and fell silent.

"I organized it." He caught Eames' look of shock and flushed. "I mean...! Miles was devastated, James and Philipa needed someone to keep an eye on them, and Cobb... well, you know how Cobb is."

Eames blinked blankly, then apologized half-heartedly for not attending the funeral. Arthur understood, they all needed to deal in their own ways. Then a strange look overtook Eames' face. "You, James, and Philipa... I can't imagine." he mused in an almost awed-like fashion. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"It's not... I didn't... it was just for special occasions!" he spluttered. "Um... like, Christmas, New Years, birthdays, and the occasional school play." Arthur absent-mindedly listed the occasions off on his fingers. "Miles really can't handle technology like video cameras." he snickered a little. He had a sort of fondness in his eyes when he spoke of the Cobb family. "Miles said Cobb would want to see what he missed when he got back."

Now Eames stared openly at the man like he was a saint. "Let me get this straight. You lose a close friend, plan her funeral, keep an eye on her husband, look after their kids, and still find time to help Cobb on crazy work like the Cobol job, not to mention the Fischer job?" Arthur looked sheepish as Eames shook his head in wonderment. "Darling, you are either too loyal for your own good, or just that bloody kind!"

Then Eames seemed to pinpoint the origin of Arthur's mood. "Have you mourned, yet?" Arthur shrugged his shoulders. Eames knew he would spout off some nonsense about this being the way he dealt with the pain. But Eames knew better, there simply wasn't enough time, or opportunity for the point man to let his guard down. He needed to keep things with Cobb running, he was also constantly keeping an eye on the authorities, and there was no way he would break down in front of the kids or Miles.

"I..." Arthur flushed in embarrassment at the crack in his voice. He cleared his throat. He really was in no state to lie. "I haven't really had the chance yet." Arthur's cigarette had been deserted and left hanging since Arthur had begun talking and was now burned straight down to the filter. Arthur crushed it on the stone rail.

"You know, Cobb is going home to his family now and you have nothing to worry about." Eames pointed out helpfully. "I think it's alright for you to let yourself cry once in a while." Arthur just frowned a bit at him, not quite close to a scowl.

"You know, Eames, it's not like you can turn your emotions on-and-off like a switch." he pointed out. Eames grinned at him.

"Sure you can't... that's why you've got me!" Because everybody knows Eames has seen a larger array of Arthur's emotions than everybody else put together. Arthur was about to shake his head and roll his eyes when he found himself engulfed in a large, warm embrace. He stiffened, fighting off the feeling of claustrophobia just enough to let out an indignant sqwawk and push Eames back an inch. But Eames' hold on the shorter man held firm no matter how much he struggled.

"Shh, easy darling!" He cooed soothingly in Arthur's ear until the man stopped half-heartedly trying to kill him. "I'm not saying you should get it all out now, or tomorrow, or next week, or even in the next year! Like you said, it's not easy. But I'm willing to wait until you're ready." Arthur relaxed visibly in his arms and nearly melted into him, burying his face in the crook of Eames' shoulder. Arthur didn't shake or sniff, in fact, Eames hadn't even noticed the man had begun crying until he felt his tears soak warm through his shirt.

* * *

><p>Arthur didn't know when he had fallen asleep, or even when they had moved inside the room. He opened his eyes sleepily and faintly heard Eames brushing his teeth in the bathroom. He squinted at the digital clock on the bedside desk. 3:40 a.m. he closed his eyes and groaned. Hearing the noise, Eames moved to poke his head through the doorway. He smiled when he saw Arthur up.<p>

"Welcome back to the land of self-consciousness, darling. Feel better?" Arthur had to admit that he did feel better after talking to Eames. He scowled at the forger anyway.

"Eames..." Eames nodded.

"Not a word, dove, I swear!" Arthur narrowed his eyes and decided to keep an eye on Ariadine, if Eames would tell anyone, she would, most likely, be the first to know.

"If you open your mouth, Eames, I will tear out your tongue and shove it down your throat." Arthur warned mildly, Eames was struck with the picture of a panther ready to pounce on a prey. "Don't think I won't." Of course he wouldn't, but Eames wouldn't provoke him just to find out.

Eames chuckled nervously. "Wouldn't dream of it." Arthur chuckled a little and it's more of a low rumble in the depths of his throat but it's genuine.

"A terrible aphorism to use in our professions, Eames." He pointed out amusedly and even graced Eames with a small smile. Eames practically beamed at him. "Now leave, Eames! I've got a flight to catch in three hours." And with that, Arthur shoved Eames firmly out of the room.

"What? After everything that's happened, and I don't get to sleep over?" Eames widened his eyes jokingly and Arthur has to think he looks innocently childish.

"No, Mr. Eames." Arthur smirked, hand on the doorknob, ready to close the door.

"Not even a goodnight kiss?"

"Goodnight, Eames." And the door is closed in the forger's face. Eames stood there for a moment, debating whether to continue bothering Arthur or to just let it slide. He decided on the latter option and walked away.

He ran into Cobb outside Ariadine's room and smiled at him reassuringly. Everybody will be alright. We're healing. He bid the rest of the team goodnight and made his way to his own room.

* * *

><p>Arthur stood in the middle of the airport, glaring at the flight timetables. His flight to Paris would be delayed for at least another hour-and-a-half... at the very least. His forehead wrinkled a little and the edges of his mouth dip by a fraction in displeasure. He decided to put out his feelers and find himself a spare extractor. Cobb will most likely stay and catch up with his kids for the next... Arthur frowned. How much time did it usually take for separated families to catch up? Anyway, Cobb would be temporarily out of commission for a while. He'd need a new extractor.<p>

He looked at the clock, ten more minutes till the gates opened, he might as well start lining up now. He moved toward the gates when a pair of muscly arms shot out and wrapped around his midriff. Arthur couldn't bite back a yelp when he was lifted a few inches off the ground. He shot his elbow into his attacker's stomach reflexively and was quickly released. He spun around.

"Eames!" he gasped, he looked a ridiculous hybrid of shocked and enraged. Eames just smiled easily at him and jutted his thumb over his shoulder with his right hand as he rubbed his bruised stomach with his left.

"What are you doing, love? Passengers going to London line up over there." Arthur had to wonder where the man's confidence came from. Seeing that Arthur was making no move to follow him, Eames picked up Arthur's bag and began walking away with long strides. Arthur had to scramble and jog to catch up with him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Arthur hissed at the taller man. Eames shrugged his shoulders.

"Dreaming big and taking chances... you won't kill me for making you lose your flight, will you?" Eames looked sincerely worried for a moment. Arthur just stared at him, most likely pondering on the man's motives. All he could intelligently inquire was a small 'huh?'. Eames chuckled softly. "I'd very much enjoy dating you, Arthur. Unfortunately, the perfect first dating spot just happens to be situated in London, fancy that, eh?"

Arthur stopped in his tracks and just blinked at him blankly. "Eames, I would've expected terrible, straight and to the point pick-up lines but this...? You have a strange way of asking someone to date you and making it sound so casual." Arthur sounded more surprised than anything.

"What? Not good enough for you? I was actually contemplating something along the lines of 'I'll show you things you've never _dreamed_ of'!" Eames grinned, Arthur just rolled his eyes.

"So, we are going all the way to London for a first date? You know that I have to be in Marseille by day after tomorrow, right?" Eames tsked at him and wagged a finger at the man.

"Not happening! Your potential extractor is flying with you to London anyway." He wagged his eyebrows mischievously. "Like I said, darling, you mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger." And Eames was walking away again. Arthur scowled at his retreating figure.

"I heard you the first time." he murmured and followed him.

The End


End file.
